HMN C32

Chapter 32

Creak.

“Sunbae.”

“Hey.”

The large club room was bustling with chatter. After several gatherings, most of the members already seemed familiar with one another—but to Daeyoung, nearly everyone still felt like strangers. He followed behind Wonjung, who was greeting people left and right, and when he spotted Seongrae waving enthusiastically, he waved back in relief.

“Ah, Daeyoung and Wonjung are here?”

“Yeah. Hi, Minhye.”

No sooner had he smiled than his usual awkward “geek mode” returned. He fidgeted a little, then sat at one of the large tables. From where he sat, he could see Go Chiwoo—up front near Minhye—but Daeyoung had no intention of calling out to him, let alone greeting him by name. Instead, he quietly assumed his usual role as the forgotten extra beside Wonjung, while Minhye began distributing papers from the front desk to the back.

“Alright.”

The chatter subsided, and the room grew quiet as Minhye stood before them.

“This is a list of must-see masterpieces for college students—including classics. On the back is a list of independent films made by our seniors. During the May Festival, we host our own film event, complete with an awards ceremony, so everyone needs to watch all of them.”

“……”

Daeyoung’s eyes widened. The list was enormous—bigger than some class syllabi. Feeling a little overwhelmed, he flipped through the pages.

Rustle, rustle.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one thinking the same. The faint sound of shuffling paper filled the room. Soon after, snippets of conversation about certain films floated up here and there—people already discussing scripts, cinematography, and direction. Apparently, even within the club, there was already a “main circle,” those aiming to become directors or screenwriters.

Considering what Wonjung had said earlier, it made sense. This wasn’t just any university club—it had produced real directors, and with ongoing sponsorship, ambition was only natural.

“The list is pretty long, but we’ll be splitting it up for evaluation later. For now, write your name under the genre you want to watch. I’ll post the sheet here in the club room.”

Daeyoung nodded. He didn’t know much about movies anyway, so there was no particular genre he wanted to claim. Maybe he’d just pick one of the unpopular categories that others would avoid. He brushed his thumb along the thick edge of the papers.

“……”

As he glanced absently around, his eyes met Chiwoo’s. The man was perched on a table near Minhye, who was still explaining something to the front row. For a brief second, their gazes held. What? He blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected eye contact, and before he could look away, Chiwoo turned his head first.

“What are you picking?”

Before he could think too much about it, Wonjung leaned close and asked.

“Uh, whatever nobody else wants to do…”

“Oh, same. It’s not like I’d understand any of it anyway.”

Daeyoung couldn’t help a small laugh. He knew that was a lie—Wonjung was practically a cinephile.

“You don’t have to worry about me. Just pick what you want.”

He said it lightly, but the thought carried weight. Sometimes Wonjung went out of his way to accommodate him—checking in, keeping him included, making sure he didn’t feel left out. It was kind, and yet, it left him with a faint sense of guilt.

“I don’t really have anything I want.”

That was that. He nodded, figuring if Daeyoung truly wanted something, he’d say so himself.

“…So from tomorrow, the clubroom door will be password-protected. I’ll post it in the group chat. Anyway—let’s go eat! I made a reservation at the samgyeopsal place behind campus.”

She’d probably said a bunch of other announcements too, but food was the only part that stuck. Daeyoung immediately stood, folding the papers in half and shoving them into his bag. He wasn’t the only hungry one—chatter and excitement spread as chairs scraped back and students stood. The crowd was so thick that it took effort to get out the door.

“Sunbae, you missed the last meeting because of your part-time job, right?”

Seongrae turned back, addressing his curiosity while packing his things.

“Since then, a few freshmen joined.”

“Oh… really?”

That meant he’d have to be even more careful about his impression. Instinctively, Daeyoung’s shoulders shrank a little as he waited for most members to file out. At least chatting a bit with Wonjung and Seongrae kept him from getting bored. Then his conscience pricked again.

“Hey, is it really fine for me to just half-ass my participation like this?”

“Of course, it’s fine. There’s plenty of people, and it’s not like we’re doing much yet. Just make sure you don’t skip when Minhye says attendance’s mandatory.”

“Then that’s a relief.”

Before he could brood further, Wonjung laughed and patted his back.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Once everyone had left, only five people remained in the clubroom—Minhye, closing the windows, and Chiwoo, gathering the leftover papers, among them. Daeyoung stole a quick glance in that direction before slipping out first. For a second, he thought their eyes met again, but quickly dismissed the thought. No point overanalyzing. He left without hesitation this time.

Even for a well-funded club, student dining options were limited. The group headed to a popular samgyeopsal restaurant nearby, famous for its flavor and reasonable prices. Sitting with Wonjung and Seongrae, Daeyoung relaxed for the first time that evening. The pork belly was frozen, but delicious nonetheless, and they even finished with fried rice on the grill.

“Oh, that movie! It’s so sad, right?”

Naturally, the night’s conversation revolved around films. Luckily, it was a mainstream superhero flick, so Daeyoung could follow along, clinking soju glasses with Seongrae. By the time the last of the fried rice disappeared from the pan, Seongrae—who’d gone to the restroom—came back clapping his hands.

“Sunbae, we’re going for round two! Let’s continue there.”

“Round two? Should I even tag along?”

His cheeks were flushed pink from half a bottle of soju, and he scratched his head awkwardly. It felt uncertain. Sure, he wanted to participate when possible, but he’d missed most of the smaller hangouts due to work. With so many unfamiliar faces, would it seem weird for him—a returning student—to stick around?

“Come on, it’s fine! A bunch of people missed the last meetup too.”

It was Seongrae who encouraged him, with Wonjung backing him up, nudging him toward the group. Thanks to them, Daeyoung safely joined the second round. As long as the two were there, he figured it would be fine. At least, that was true until they entered the bar.

Clap!

Just like Seongrae earlier, this time it was Minhye who clapped her hands.

“Wait! Let’s switch seats around. Everyone should get to know people they haven’t talked to yet! We’re all in the same club—time to mingle!”

Smiling brightly, she caught Daeyoung just as he stepped inside and pointed to a table in the middle.

No. Please. Spare me.

He turned quickly, hoping for rescue—but behind him, Seongrae and Wonjung were already scattering to different tables. He was doomed. Clearing his throat, he reluctantly headed toward the spot Minhye indicated, his steps hesitant and awkward. The table already had a few unfamiliar faces.

“Hi…”

He couldn’t just sit there waiting for someone younger to break the ice. Mustering his courage, he gave a stiff greeting and sat down, setting his bag beside him.

“Oh, I know you. You work at that café, right?”

The question hit the moment he sat down. His eyes widened.

“Huh? Oh—you’re a customer?”

“Yes. I’ve been there twice.”

“I’ve been there too!”

Surprisingly, the students at his table were friendly. Maybe that was what people meant when they said part-time jobs near campus were good opportunities. Then again, was this really good? Having strangers recognize his face felt more unsettling than flattering.

“I even know your name.”

“What? Really? How—how do you know my name?”

“Why are you speaking so formally?”

“…What?”

It was an innocent question—‘Other upperclassmen drop honorifics right away, don’t they?’—but the table burst into laughter. He didn’t even know what was so funny, and just gave a sheepish smile. Then the chair beside him sank slightly. Reflexively, he turned his head—and even through his tipsy haze, the sight hit sharp and clear.

Go Chiwoo. Right next to him.

Why is he sitting here? There were plenty of empty seats. His brows twitched, betraying discomfort, though at least after a few days apart, he wasn’t bristling openly like before. Time softened things, if only a little.

“It’s fine, you can drop formalities,” said one of the freshmen diagonally across from him, smiling kindly.

At the same time, someone new sat across the table. A male student, his face flushed red from drink, looking irritated about something. He tore open a wet napkin and scrubbed at the table, muttering, “Ugh, filthy,” under his breath. The others exchanged glances but decided to ignore it, resuming their chat.

“Yeah, everyone else drops honorifics too.”

Thanks to that, Daeyoung’s attention shifted away from the grumbling student. Surrounded by friendly faces—freshmen who clearly had no issue chatting with a returning upperclassman—he finally began to relax. The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little.